Drabbles - by cruelest_month and requested by friends

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For caia_comica - Iron Man: Tony, Rhodes, and the other suit -

"Are you really going to beat that dead horse again, Rhodey? Look, the world only needs one Iron Man and it has one. Me.”

Rhodes smirked and glanced over at his friend. “I don’t want to be Iron Man. I want to take this baby out for a spin. It’s just sitting here collecting dust.”

“Not for long,” Tony said, strolling over to join him and frowning as he eyed the other, older, and obsolete version of his suit. He didn’t have a use for it himself, that was for damn sure. “I plan on permanently disabling all of its entertaining functions and donating the rest of it to the Smithsonian.”

“They want this?”

“They don’t know it yet, but they will. They’ll take it anyway.”

“And you’re sure of this because?”

“Because I’m Tony Stark.”

“You ever get sick of saying that?”

“How could I? If I wasn’t me, I’d want to be me, so it’s awesome that I am.”

“…Whatever, I’m wearing that suit.”

Tony made a face and sighed quietly. “You know, I told you I’d introduce you to Spiderman even though he’s sort of pathetic. I promised you’d meet the Fantastic Four even if they’re not exactly living up to their name. I’d like to think I’ve been a pretty generous friend.”

“You’re still late for everything.”

“That’s not true. I’ve been pretty punctual lately.”

Rhodes rolled his eyes. “Except for last Thursday.”

Tony rubbed at the back of his neck, but he couldn’t think of anything important about last Thursday. “All right. Refresh my memory. What was last Thursday?”

“Gee, I don’t know, Tony. Maybe it was my birthday.”

Shit. “…Fine, you can use the suit.”

James grinned and made probably the dorkiest gesture Tony had ever seem him do in a long, long time. “Yes!”

“Was that a fist pump? I can’t believe you just fist pumped.”

“Would you stop ruining this for me?”

“All right, but there’s some ground rules,” he said, feeling the need to be a responsible adult for at least five minutes. “You can wear the suit and fly around if you listen to everything Jarvis says and you don’t act like you’re ten years old. And if you wear a sandwich board that says you’re an imposter.”

“You owe me this, man. It was my birthday.”

Tony winced. “Yeah, I know.”

“I wanted to have a barbeque and invite the guys over, but no. No, you’re Tony Stark and you have to have an opinion about everything. You wanted it to be special and classy. Just you and me having a guy’s night out. You were supposed to rent strippers.”

“I know.”

“You were supposed to show up.”

“Yeah, I get that.”

“I got a card from you.”

Ah, good. That was a relief. “Well there you go. I thought about you.”

Rhodes shook his head. “Pepper signed your name. In her handwriting.”

“Oh.”

“It said ‘Have a wonderful birthday. Love, Tony.’ What the hell is up with that?”

He made a face. “Uh, okay, that’s weird. I’ll talk to her about that.”

“There was a heart. In my birthday card. From you.”

“Okay, I get the point. That sucks, but—”

“It was one of those new Hallmark cards. I opened it up and it started playing “La Bamba.’”

“Fine, you know what? Do whatever the hell you want with the suit. Later. Right now I need a drink.”

“Thanks.”

“Yeah, yeah. Happy freakin’ birthday.” He paused and gave Rhodey a thoughtful look. “Just so we’re clear… We’re even, right? No hard feelings?”

“Right,” Rhodes said, beaming at Tony in a way that made him really wish he was less sober.

“What?”

“Nothing. Just thinking. It’s just a good thing you love me and want me to have a wonderful birthday.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“I’ll never forget this, Tony.”

He snorted and led the way to the next room where the couch, workstation and, most importantly, the bar was. “Yeah, well, I’m drinking until I do.”


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For fahrbot - Mighty Boosh/Supernatural: Vince and Dean and unicorns -


“I can’t believe it,” Dean muttered when it was all over. Vince was humming to himself and braiding the hair of the mythical beasts that had somehow shown up just in the nick of time. Howard was off in another corner of the wood. Looked like he was sulking while playing a trumpet.

“I know!” Vince exclaimed, adding a few more bits of ribbons and flowers before looking up from his new friend’s thick mane. “All those unicorns showing up and saving you.”

“Just me?”

“Alright. You and me. But it was genius.”

“Yeah, but that’s not what I meant.”

Vince’s head tilted and he frowned a little. “Oh?”

“I meant that you’d think Howard would try harder to get laid.”

He flipped back a few strands of hair and shrugged. “It’s hard to meet people when you like jazz.”

“I’m sure there’s girls out there who would go for him. I mean, I’m glad he was able to help your shaman friend find these guys, but…”
“It’s well pathetic,” Vince said knowingly.

Dean looked over to the other end of the clearing. “I was going to say sad and embarrassing, but that too.”

After setting the brush and accessories down on a stump, Vince walked over to him and hugged him from behind, resting his somewhat pointy chin on his shoulder. Not that Dean was complaining. “He’ll sort it out, yeah?”

“Yeah. So why do the unicorns like…” He realized that while he knew for a fact that Vince wasn’t a virgin, he didn’t want to really bring it up in front of My Little Pony rejects. Especially not the kind with horns. “Don’t they usually hang out with virgins?”

Vince giggled and kissed Dean’s cheek before pulling back. “Normally, but they don’t like jazz and they don’t really have time to groom themselves, do they? Wot with people always bothering them.”

“That makes sense. I guess.”

“Try not to think about it too hard,” Vince suggested brightly before going over to finish working on the unicorns. “I never do.”


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For th_esaurus - Iron Man/Spiderman: Anything about Tony and Otto Octavius being friends when they were younger.

Note: Technically, I wasn't going to write crossovers for any other fandom, but both of them went to MIT and I read up on Otto's goddawful parents. And then since it's movie-verse, I just made some stuff up. XD

It wasn’t coincidence that resulted in him being the one to go with the other student to the funeral. No one else was going to go and his RA had approached him about it. As if Tony knew what to do and what to say to help the only other seventeen year-old genius on campus cope. So why did he agree? Why did he go? Well, Otto was his roommate and Otto was probably the saddest, loneliest boy Tony had ever met.

The first time he saw Otto Octavius standing there with his suitcase he looked so much like a fish out of water that Tony’s first reaction was to go get him a goldfish bowl. He was a normal-looking, a little pudgy maybe, but normal in other respects. Short, almost wavy hair. Brown, intense eyes.

I don’t need friends, Tony had thought to himself, but he sure does. Fifteen-year-old Tony Stark had plenty of sycophants already. He had the charm and charisma with all of the immaturity and money a genius needed to fit in. Otto was smart as hell and poor as shit. He was attending MIT on a scholarship. A full ride. Fifteen-year-old Otto Octavius didn’t know how the game was played and no one had ever given him a glimpse of the rulebook.

There were so many differences between them that they had become steadfast acquaintances. If nothing else, Otto didn’t get picked on as much if he was around and if Otto was around, people tended to leave Tony alone. Then they would talk about things that mattered. Robots and radiation and physics.

“I’m supposed to miss him,” Otto murmured once he managed to pull away from his mother. She was a weepy woman and clingy like an octopus. Tony had done his best to keep well out of her reach after shaking her clammy hand after she thanked him profusely for coming. It was bad enough he was at a funeral trying to comfort a fellow genius. He wasn’t looking to put up with the mother of one.

“Do you?” Tony asked curiously, not judging. He didn’t like all the people or the crying or the stupid conversations like the one he was trying to have with Otto. He didn’t know Torbert Octavius and never would now. He didn’t care so it was a relief that Otto didn’t seem to either.

Otto shook his head, looking grim and old. “He left me something in his own way. When I was younger, I would get in trouble with other people at school and he would say that a man was measured by his power and strength.”

People only spouted bullshit at you before they hurt you. He didn’t need Otto to say it and it didn’t look like Otto would. Tony didn’t know what it was like to have a father like that or a weirdly neurotic mother. He didn’t want to know and he didn’t want to talk about it either.

“Power and strength,” he muttered instead. “What about booze, loose women, and a lot of weapons?” Tony wanted to be measured in those.

Otto’s lips quirked up slightly. “Just distractions.”

“Yeah, but what a great way to waste your time.”

Less than a year later, his parents were dead. Tony still wasn’t sure he knew what it was like to lose someone and not care. He was a little surprised to see Otto there at the funeral, dressed to blend in, but not blending in at all.

He hadn’t contacted Otto since graduating summa cum laude. Otto had stayed on to work towards more degrees, and probably, Tony thought, to avoid his leech-like mother.

Tony took a deep breath and shook the other man’s hand before looking over at the coffins. His fingers opened and closed uselessly at his sides. God, he wanted to a drink so badly.

“I’m sorry.”

He had heard that useless phrase all day long from a countless number of unreliable sources, but there was a difference this time with Otto being the one to say it. This time, Tony believed him, but he found that he sort of hated him for meaning it. For being sincerely sorry.

The only expression he could manage was a wry smirk as he handed Otto a business card. “Thanks. And, hey, keep in touch,” Tony murmured before heading off to the parking lot.

Five seconds later and he wasn’t sure if he was mad at Otto for being the one person who cared who wasn’t obligated to, or if Tony was just mad at the world for taking away the two people who’d loved and understood him without him ever having to explain or justify himself. Just the same, he wanted to be ticked off when Otto followed him outside, but he wasn’t.

“Nice car.”

Tony nodded, fingers brushing over the hood of the Bentley. One of his dad’s cars. His now. “Yeah.”

“I’ll contact you later if you want, but since you’re leaving and I don’t know anyone else in here… Do you want some company right now?”

“No offense? But you’re the wrong gender.”

“None taken. You’re not my type.”

He snorted and unlocked the doors as he considered this former classmate. It would be harder getting two under-aged people into a bar than one of them, but the fact that Otto seemed amused, sure of himself, and a lot less like the kid no one would ever pick for their gym class baseball team, Tony couldn’t think of one good reason not to let him come along. “Yeah, sure. Might as well.”


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For bluemoon02 - Iron Man: Tony setting up some kind of intricate CCTV system to indulge in his voyeurism over Ms Potts.

Note: Unfortunately, this turned into a humor ficlet/drabble with Tony and Jarvis talking and snarking mostly. Includes a mention of Sue Storm.

After a week of observation, Tony was beginning to think Pepper Potts had a couple of screws loose. She was stealing socks –the expensive argyle ones-- from his drawer like some sort of demented sock fairy, moping around the workshop when he wasn’t home, clipping out articles about him and putting it up the wall of her room and being a little odder than he’d really figured she was capable of being. But then he’d never paid much attention to what she did after hours and he’d been hoping for something a little more racy and a little less psycho stalker.

“May I say something, sir?”

“Little busy here, Jarvis,” Tony muttered, rewinding a tape and raising an eyebrow. Jesus, she was reading a romance novel and sighing and mumbling his name. “Is that a pirate on the cover?”

“It appears to be a Viking. The title of that particular volume is The Warlord’s Delightful Virgin. Would you like to order a copy?”

He snorted and took another sip of scotch. “God, no.”

“This can hardly be a proper, fitting use of your time.”

“Oh, for the… What the hell is she doing with my shoes in this clip here?”

Jarvis clucked his artificial, disembodied tongue. “There are some mysteries in life that ought to remain mysteries. This seems to be particularly true of women and even more so for the ones you hire, sir.”

“She’s taking my shoes. Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

“Is that really a matter of great consequence, sir? You have approximately ten additional pairs and ten percent of those are similar in terms of color and quality.”

“Are you two working together?”

“You asked me to keep a detailed record and inventory of your personal effects, sir.”

Tony rubbed his forehead. “Oh. Right.”

“I assure you that when I read romance novels, I hardly ever think about you. Although there was one particular tale of a vampire princess that I recently examined, and I thought her attitude bore a striking resemblance to your own.”

“I hate you.” There was a pause and something else occurred to him. He hadn’t been drinking for that long and the romance novel situation was pretty ridiculous. Even for Pepper. “You told her, didn’t you?”

“You never actually said that I could not inform her of your less than scrupulous activities. I thought it only prudent to inform Ms. Potts of the increasing need for video surveillance.”

“So this…”

“Staged, I’m afraid.”

“And Sue?”

“Hard to know, sir, but you’ll remember that Sue Storm’s powers are such that she can become invisible. One could come to the conclusion that, if she became invisible shortly after the kiss, they made the sounds you expected to hear, and laughed at you in another room shortly afterwards.”

Tony groaned and poured more alcohol into his glass. “Jarvis? Remind me to fire you tomorrow.”

“Duly noted.”


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